I have a poll up at the Facebook page asking who all of you believe should win the National Book Award. (Why am I not among the finalists? I could say that my book isn’t very good, but actually it’s because by the time it was clear Dismantle the Sunwould be out in 2012, the deadline for submission had already passed. Keep your eyes on the PEN/Faulkner, PEN/Hemingway, and Puschart Prizes. If something happens, award-wise, it’ll happen there.)

I’m beginning to think that the only way Te’o can possibly explain all this is to tell the world the truth: that his girlfriend is a secret agent for the CIA who had to fake her death before parachuting into North Korea to rescue a kidnapped Japanese movie director before he shot a film that would have, through subliminal messaging, brainwashed the entire world and forced it to worship the Munsingwear Penguin. Either that, or he’s gay.

Tomorrow, Sirhan Sirhan confesses to Oprah that he killed Bobby Kennedy. After that, water confesses to Oprah that it is frequently damp.